


No Matter How Much I Fight It (Stuck On You Like Magnetic)

by stereoslash



Category: Produce 101 (TV), UNIQ (Band), UP10TION, X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, based on the feel like mv because we all know that SΣT is the hoe album of the year, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereoslash/pseuds/stereoslash
Summary: Vexation has become part and parcel of dealing with Kim Wooseok.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	No Matter How Much I Fight It (Stuck On You Like Magnetic)

**Author's Note:**

> [Click this link before proceeding.](https://twitter.com/seungseokhq/status/1372814662379577344) Title taken from Rain and Jackson Wang’s “Magnetic”.

There’s a faint melody drifting down the halls as Seungyoun makes his way out of the lift, notes weaving together amidst a heady bassline and prompting a crease to form at his brow. It’s a quarter past eleven on a Monday morning, easily the busiest day of the work week, and exasperation floods his frame at the prospect of catching his employees idling about — footfalls ringing out across the marbled floors as he presses forward with the intent of locating the source of the noise. Hushed whispers and hurried glances serve as a response to his presence, purveying outwards like ripples on a lake; and a rebuke has begun to crawl its way out of his throat just as stern words grip his attention, his CFO having materialised seemingly out of nowhere to fix Seungyoun with an unimpressed stare.

“Kim’s here.” Han Seungwoo declares in lieu of a greeting, easily keeping pace with Seungyoun’s strides even as poorly concealed ire urges the younger male forward with a newfound zeal that hovers dangerously close to bloodlust. “The Board would appreciate it if you went out of your way to be a lot more civil this time around. We’ve been trying to close this deal for months, Cho. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can be rid of him — the sooner we can _all_ be rid of him.”

It’s a spiel that’s been replayed countless times before, and the words have stopped holding as much weight at some point within the past few months — but there’s a certain urgency in Seungwoo’s tone now, and Seungyoun supposes that the Board’s incessant demands have caused the man’s patience to wear thin. “I’ll close the deal the moment he agrees to our terms, Seungwoo, and not a second before that.” Seungyoun responds, lips taking on a slight curl if only to irk the older male further, and he pays no attention to the exasperated sigh that his words are met with. “I’ll see you after lunch.” he adds, parting from the other and continuing to make his way towards his own office.

He’s schooling his features into neutrality just as his footsteps come to a stop just outside the door, the previous exchange doing little to dull the vexation that’s become part and parcel of dealing with Kim Wooseok. Seungyoun’s fully expecting the manner with which the younger male’s frame would be occupying the seat across from his desk, expression set in an aggravating mixture of indifference and distaste; and his predictions ring true as he steps inside, with the room’s only other occupant resolutely refusing to greet him — amicability in business be damned.

“Kim.” Seungyoun says, if only to provide the barest measure of civility that the younger male had failed to extend. A nearly imperceptible nod serves as the only retort, and Seungyoun reaches for the lone folder that’s been placed right on the center of his desk — no doubt the latest iteration of a fairly straightforward indenture that would have been finalised mere days after its conception if not for the other party’s intractability — and it would be pointless to waste precious minutes to peruse the file that he’s been provided with, Seungyoun thinks, knowing all too well that Kim Wooseok could easily match his disinclination to yield; but he goes through the motions in spite of the perceived futility, and he’s none too surprised to find that the proposed contract puts both companies at an impasse.

Seungyoun lets the folder slip from his grasp, barely paying it any mind as it clatters softly onto the surface of his table once more; a hand carding through short trims with a long-suffering sigh as the other works to loosen the knot of his tie. This is a dance they know all too well, a seemingly endless cycle of seeking out compromises that the other is unwilling to entertain; and he had grown weary of the repetition within the very first month — but going back and forth had somehow become so ingrained in Seungyoun’s routine that he finds himself regarding it with the barest hints of anticipation.

Contract negotiations with Kim Wooseok proceed like clockwork, with the only deviations being the time, the date, and whatever unreasonable stipulation the younger male had sought fit to work into the proposal in the space between the current meeting and the last. As such, the warm weight that’s settling on top of Seungyoun’s lap hardly comes as a surprise, and Seungyoun’s hands frame the other’s waist as if on cue — leaning back to get a better view as his eyes seek out the younger’s. His palms skim the fabric, slipping past the blazer that’s been draped across narrow shoulders and coming to a halt on the vest that lies beneath; thumbing absently over the patterns as he speaks.

“Judging by your latest ‘revision’, if you can even call it that when you seem awfully set on having us disagree,” Seungyoun begins, undoing the fastenings on Wooseok’s vest before his hands roam across the other’s chest — tone all too conversational even as he moves to tease each nub through the fabric, “you seem to be under the impression that your company can afford to refuse meeting us halfway. You’d be better off looking for a partner who could entertain your demands.”

“And you’d be better off dropping the deal altogether. Han didn’t seem very pleased to see me again, and I doubt the rest of the Board is faring much better. Your only options are to accept the terms you’ve adamantly refused or to dismiss the merger as a whole.” Wooseok counters, back arching to press closer into the elder’s touch; a hand bracing itself against Seungyoun’s knee as the other works to undo his own tie. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Seungyoun plucks the tie from the other’s grip then, setting it down on his desk and proceeding to undo the buttons on Wooseok’s shirt — his gaze raking over every bit of exposed skin. Wooseok shrugs off all three layers soon enough, garments forming a pile on top of the tie, and Seungyoun looks on just as Wooseok shivers just the slightest bit in the cold air — his palms slowly tracing pale skin as if to lend a bit of warmth to the other male. “I’d prefer watching you fold. That would be a lot more fulfilling, don’t you think?”

The response doesn’t come right away, Wooseok no doubt reveling in the contact — and then he’s curling a hand around the end of Seungyoun’s tie, a soft tug easily placing them in each other’s space; whispered words serving as a prelude to the way that the distance between them would disappear within moments. “Meet me again next week and we’ll see.”

They lapse into silence then, mouths fitting against each other’s with practiced ease — Seungyoun drawing idle patterns onto bare skin as Wooseok begins to cant against him. There’s heat pooling at his gut, spreading across every point of contact as their frames slot together; the silence only being broken with every sigh that falls from Wooseok’s lips. Seungyoun finds no trace of the indifference that had radiated off of the younger male in waves just a few minutes prior, having given way to parted lips and a hooded gaze that’s drawn to Seungyoun’s mouth whenever they part — and Wooseok draws a path down the column of Seungyoun’s neck, open-mouthed kisses painting fire onto the skin.

Seungyoun’s legs part wide as Wooseok moves to kneel in the space between them, delicate digits working at his fly — and Seungyoun finds his grip on soft strands, guiding the other’s gaze to his just as the thumb of his free hand tugs at Wooseok’s lower lip. Wooseok’s mouth parts as he’s prompted, tongue peeking out from between kiss-bitten lips, and Seungyoun allows himself a few moments to revel in the sight before guiding his cock into the other’s mouth.

It’s jarring, Seungyoun thinks, how Wooseok could be painfully stubborn one moment and beautifully pliant in the next — but it makes the warmth that surrounds him all the more rewarding, and Wooseok’s eyes never leave his even as cheeks are hollowed around his length. Seungyoun’s grip winds tighter as he cants forward twice, thrice, pressing all the way in if only to make Wooseok choke; and the latter’s eyes brim with unshed tears just the way Seungyoun likes, prompting him to tug at Wooseok’s strands in a wordless bid to have him stand — and Wooseok obliges, chin coming away slick with spit where he had worked to accommodate Seungyoun’s length.

Seungyoun gets to his feet just as Wooseok’s palms rest flat on the desk, and his hand moves to clasp the other’s thigh before finding its way to the plug that’s nestled between Wooseok’s cheeks; his free hand reaching around to grip at Wooseok’s cock. It’s a little too dry, Seungyoun notes, and the younger’s sharp intake of breath proves as much — yet Wooseok fucks into his fist all the same, reveling in the pain that the movement is paired with. Seungyoun works the plug in and out of Wooseok’s hole in tandem with each stroke, and Wooseok’s whines pitch a little too loud in the stillness of the office — growing even louder as Seungyoun sinks his teeth into the other’s shoulder.

The minutes pass by in a blur, and it doesn’t take too long for Seungyoun to reach for the bottle he keeps inside one of his desk drawers, slicking up his length before driving into Wooseok’s warmth — nails digging into soft flesh as he grips the younger’s hips tight enough to bruise. Seungyoun’s just a touch too feverish, the cold air doing nothing to curb the heat that’s emanating from his core, and it doesn’t exactly help that he’s still fully clothed; but the contrast between both frames — Seungyoun ever so composed even as Wooseok is laid bare for all the world to see — is more than enough to spur him on.

Groans and whines and labored breaths fill the space that surrounds them, a familiar tune cutting through the din and serving as an undercurrent — and the music swells just as Seungyoun nears his peak, Wooseok’s taint gripping him like a vice; the younger male fucking back against his cock even as he spills onto the desk in front of them. It takes but a few moments for Seungyoun to come apart, his broad frame caging the other in as he works to catch his breath; kisses being pressed onto Wooseok’s skin in an effort to soothe just as the music grows ever fainter —

Seungyoun falls back onto his seat as the song comes to an end. Gone are the carpeted floors and the marble desk, talks of contracts and mergers fading away into the ether and leaving nothing but the music file that’s taking up residence on his screen. His phone lies abandoned in the midst of his setup, a call coming through once he reaches for it — and as a familiar voice drifts down the line, Seungyoun feels the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I did it because Seungseok refuse to breathe. Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seungseokhq) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/woodz_).


End file.
